


Fethry's First Formula

by agentz123



Series: Who is Donald Duck? [7]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Bad Luck, Broken Bones, Cheating in Go Fish, Duck cousins - Freeform, Fear of hospitals, Gen, The Dark Side of Gladstone Gander (?), aged-down characters, good luck, not too much gore though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123
Summary: The Duck cousins play pretend.
Relationships: Donald Duck & Della Duck & Fethry Duck & Gladstone Gander
Series: Who is Donald Duck? [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890283
Kudos: 95





	Fethry's First Formula

**Author's Note:**

> Newton's law of universal gravitation states that F = mg, where 
> 
> F is the force pulling objects toward the Earth  
> m is the mass of the object  
> g is the acceleration due to gravity

“Let’s play Pirates!” Donald shouted. Della immediately agreed, calling dibs on being Peg Leg Peg again. Gladstone, on the other hand, froze in his tracks. 

“I HATE Pirates!”

“Come on! You only hate them because you’re too much of a baby.” 

“Am not!”  
"Are too!”  
“Am _not_!”  
“Are _too_!”

“Both of you, stop!” Della had squeezed between them and shoved them apart. Her brother landed in a mud puddle, and her cousin’s fall was softened by a random field of daisies. When he stood, the flowers were perfectly fine. “Fethry,” she continued, “you decide. Should we play Pirates?”

“Hm…”  
“Say no, Fethry!”  
The twins sandwiched him. He _hated_ when they did that. “Sh-h!” “Let ‘im think!” 

“Are you guys gonna make me swab the poop deck again?” Donnie and Delly shook their heads furiously. Fethry puffed out his chest. “Then yes!”  
“Yes!”  
“Yes!”  
“No!”

“Aw Gladdy, stop being such a toad. It’s not like you have any better ideas, do ya?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, no…”

“Then it’s settled! Three against one!” Donald took off his cap and shoved it on Fethry’s head. It fell over his eyes, but he wore it with pride. “First Mate Fethry! Peg Leg Peg! Gladdy the Goober! Let’s roll out!” 

“Ugh, you’re the one with goo for brains!” 

“At least I’m not a baby.” 

“I am _not_!” Suddenly there was a sword’s tip jabbed into his chest. “Hey, cut that out!” 

“Don’t make me chop ye up, matey.”

“Chop me up? It’s a _stick_!”

“That’s where yer wrong, matey! It’s ma trusty blade, dried and blue!” There was a tug at the captain’s sleeve. He looked down at his first mate. “Yer not going out to sea looking like _that_ , are ye? Peg!”

Peg Leg unwrapped her blue bandana from her neck and tied it around Fiery Feth’s eye. She ran off into a cabin and quickly returned with a glinting sword. “Grab it by the hilt,” she warned, when she caught him about to take it by its cutting edge. “Alright crew, now we’re ready!” She hobbled ahead, trying to get a good look for treasure through her faithful spyglass. “Aye, yes! First Mate Fiery Feth! Check the horizon for enemies! Or _booty_!” Peg Leg giggled. The first mate nodded and started climbing up the mast. He quickly realized that he could use one of the beams jutting from it to get a better vantage point. 

The plank trembled as the branches forced Fiery Feth to place all of his weight on it, their brambles poking him in the back and tickling. He inched forward, trying to see something, anything, but the overpowering smell of sea salt made him dizzy. He blinked in an attempt to clear his vision and looked down into the churning green waves again. He squinted, thinking he saw a sea monster, and leaned forward a tad too much, causing the board to splinter and crack. His head swung around, and he lifted his eyepatch to see enemies pecking at the beam’s foundation. 

“Hey, quit it! Shoo, shoo! You’re making the plank wobble!” Fethry reached for his holster and wielded his sword, but they were just out of reach. If he was just a bit taller…!

“Timeout!” Della yelled. “Gladstone! Use your luck to save him!”

“I don’t know how!” But really, it was as easy as just wanting something. And right now, Gladstone didn't want to help his baby cousin. He told them that he didn’t want to play stupid Pirates. Fethry deserved what he had coming to him. 

Suddenly Donald lurched forward, shoving the two ducklings. Della stumbled onto a wad of gum the size of her hand, but Gladstone landed in a patch of four leaf clovers. 

Fethry began to drop. 

Gladstone rolled over and covered his eyes, narrowly missing the root of the sickening crack that echoed throughout the forest. He allowed the scent of the plants to fill his nostrils. Okay. Okay. Fethry didn’t -- doesn’t -- deserve it. Please let that have been something else. Anything else. Please. Anything but his brains. He’s a good kid…

He opened his eyes to darkness when he heard Donald screech, “I got you, Fethry!” 

Fethry was surprised when he felt the warmth of his older cousin instead of the icy waves. He snuggled deeper into his side. “Y-you got me?” He got him. He got him!

“Yes. You’re my family. I’ve always got you,” he whispered, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. Fethry, after recollecting himself, rolled off of Donald and offered his hand to help him stand up too, but stopped midway. Donald’s wing was twisted weirdly, bent in the wrong direction and stuck in the air, turning more violet by the second. Gladstone wanted to throw up. He _never_ feels sick, not ever, so he was really scared. 

He wish had come true. His luck had struck again.  


Right? 

“Don? _Don_! Come on, let’s get you to Grandma! _No_! Don’t go to sleep, Donald! Gladstone, please! We can’t lift him by ourselves!” Instantaneously, Della’s voice transformed into one more cold, more menacing. “Look what you did, Gladstone.” 

He whipped his head around. “Wh-what did you say?” 

“Help!” she begged, her hysteria making her weaker. Donald’s limp body fell onto Fethry. Gladstone just closed his eyes again and started picking at the clovers, just wishing...

Out of nowhere, their grandmother appeared. “Kids? Just thought I would come check on you --”

“ _Grandma_! Donald’s hurt!” 

“Also I can’t breathe!” 

“Alright everyone, calm down.” Elvira soothed. She was immediately at Donald’s side, and gently placed her wings under his unconscious body and lifted. She didn’t have to tell her granddaughter to help little Fethry. “Come on, all of you in the car. We have to get to the hospital.” 

“But Donald _hates_ hospitals! Can’t you fix him up here?”  
“Yeah, like when he had that bad tummy ache?”  
“Or when his head got stuck in the stables?”

She shook her head, quickening her pace. 

“I just don’t want him to wake up scared,” Della said softly. Elvira froze, and turned to see how her granddaughter had fallen behind. She shifted Donald’s weight so she was able to squeeze her hand. 

“He won’t be, because his family will be there. Right?”

“Right.”  
“We’ve always got him!” 

Gladstone simply nodded. Could he even be considered family anymore after what he had done? 

“No.” 

The voice had returned. 

***

“Go fish.”  
“And Grandma drove us all here! And they put that cast on you!”  
“We weren’t allowed to watch, though. Do you have any fives?”  
“Go fish.”  
“Aw, you’re cheating.”  
“Am not! We made sure to tell them to give you a blue one!”  
“Thanks.” He smiled at his cousins weakly. He even gave one to Gladstone, who, instead of sitting on his cot with Della and Fethry, was swinging his feet against a chair that was placed a few feet away. “Any threes?”

Fethry quietly gave him the cards. “Donnie? Do you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?”

Fethry sniffed. “If I was better at climbing, I wouldn’t have fell and...and broke your arm,” he whispered. He put his deck down face up by mistake. He did have a five. 

“No! It’s my fault. I knew you needed more practice, but it was a bad time. What a stupid idea! I bet you hate _me_ , huh, Donald.”

“I don’t hate you, Fiery Feth, and I don’t hate you, Peg. It was just an accident.” 

Gladstone dared to peek through the gaps in between his fingers. Donald wasn’t even angry. What gives?

Do you hate _me_ , Donaldo?


End file.
